Although the xenophobic attacks that swept through the country recently were directed at foreign nationals – poor Africans in particular – the violence also focused attention on the deep divisions between South Africans.
But one man is single-handedly tackling these divisions, using language as a tool to break down the barriers between isiXhosa and Afrikaans-speaking communities in the Cape Flats, Cape Town.
Grant Solomon (32) reaches about 1 600 learners through the isiXhosa classes he volunteers to teach at seven primary schools, in five informal settlements, four libraries and a créche.
Criss-crossing the venues that make up this network with only a bicycle for transport, he relies on donations from schools that can afford to contribute. When that fails, he sells chocolates and biltong on trains to make ends meet.
Born on June 16 1976 – the day of the Soweto uprising – Solomon said he learned isiXhosa from standards six to 10 (grades eight to 10), although he maintains this was just a foundation.
He said he had been ”disturbed from an early age” by people using racial words.
”What bothers me is that in our community people never used to get along (and) the reason being we don’t understand one another’s culture. That is why I decided to use language as my ammunition to break that down.”
Solomon started his volunteer classes in 2004 after approaching the principal of Lourier Primary in Retreat and asking how he could help.
Since then he has expanded classes to Hanover Park, Athlone, Heathfield, Steenberg, Philippi and Parkwood.
He has no matric or formal training, but appears to be a consummate teacher.
At a class of grade four learners at Yeshua Primary in Heathfield last week, he was found putting a class of 15 learners through their paces, throwing out words and phrases while the children chanted their replies.
”Beautiful, wonderful,’ he told them as he patrols the aisles between the desks, taking the learners rapidly through the verbs for study (funda), write (bhala) and use (sebenzisa).
Solomon believes that government is not doing enough to promote local languages and wants it to recognise his project and assess the work he does so that he can become accredited.
He believes racial incidents in schools can be fought by using language as a tool to bring people together.
Government, he argues, is fighting the battle against racism in the wrong way.
”You can’t tell people to love one another, you have to teach people to be practical… to show people how to love another language.”
Although Afrikaans-speaking, he resists being identified by race or language. When travelling on the train he prefers not to speak Afrikaans because he is embraced as a ”bra”, which isolates him from isiXhosa-speakers.
”I want everybody to feel at home. I don’t want to be associated with a certain group of people, but with everybody,” he said.
In terms of the South African Schools Act, it is the school governing body’s duty to declare the language medium of instruction at a school.
In Afrikaans-speaking communities on the Cape Flats, historically isiXhosa has been relegated below English and Afrikaans, despite being one of three official languages at schools in the Western Cape.
But Anne Schlebusch, a former coordinator of the language transformation plan in the provincial education department, said for the first time schools had been sent a full curriculum and set of work programmes for isiXhosa teaching.
”Our language transformation plan encourages children to take up and have all three languages of the province by the end of grade nine,” she said.
Clive Kruger, headmaster of Lourier Primary, where Solomon started his classes, said there is a need for isiXhosa teachers.
”We want to make learners aware that English and Afrikaans are not the only languages. Also when they leave school for work the third language is very important.”
He said the reason isiXhosa was not being taught related to a lack of resources.
”We need lots more support, every school should have a third language,” he said.
On animosity between communities, he said the issue had ”reared its head” when the classes first started.
”I hope it will disappear by the next generation and through time will work itself away, but initially there was concern, with parents asking ‘why must my child learn that language?”’
But Kruger said through the lessons parents had gained an understanding as to why it is so important for their children to learn about another language and culture.
Solomon finds it difficult to articulate the changes he sees in children who learn isiXhosa, saying only that he believes their attitudes change. But he does provide an on-the-frontline demonstration.
”Should we hate isiXhosa-speaking people?” he asks his class.
”No,” they shout.
”Is there a difference?”
”No,” they roar.
He turns and shrugs his shoulders as if the point is made. – West Cape News